Sacrificial Love
by Apalla
Summary: AU. It is that time of year again in the ancient city of Hetalia. The time of year when the city must offer up some of its people to the gods. Alfred F. Jones is one of these people, but that doesn't mean he wants to be. He is to be sacrificed to Arthur, the ruthless God of the Sea. For what purpose, though, he doesn't know. USUK/UKUS, GerIta, Spamano, PruHun, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 1

The city of Hetalia was a quiet one, a peaceful one. Nestled safely on the warm shores of the Mediterranean Sea, it was made so grandly it looked like the gods themselves had carved its magnificence. It was designed in the same beautiful way the Greeks and Romans not far from them built their homes and palaces, but it had a bit more of an…open, friendly air to it. It was a good place to live in the Ancient World, and if you asked anyone who lived in Hetalia, they'd tell you the same thing. With plenty of food, fresh water, and enough room for everyone to live comfortably, it was a paradise on the coast of the bright blue Mediterranean.

Especially Alfred F. Jones, the son of a rich silk merchant. He was a young, handsome, cheery, athletic boy of nineteen, with slightly tanned, peach skin, and eyes as blue as the bright sea Hetalia bordered. His short, slightly shaggy hair was as golden as wheat fields, and he was strong, but in a slender way, not a beefy way like some of the overconfident, arrogant athletes that wandered through the streets of Hetalia, mocking the weak and making disgusting passes at young girls. Alfred had no family apart from his younger brother, Matthew, and his parents, but his mother was often too busy with housework or shopping at the market to spare him much of her attention, and their father was always away, trading and selling. Alfred wasn't married, he had no children, but that didn't mean he was extremely pleasing to the eyes of many in the city; he was. But he was also gifted—or cursed, depending on how you looked at it—with immense, almost inhuman strength, and he feared harming his future wife and children, so Alfred didn't really consider marriage as an option for him.

This outraged his father when he found out, the man screaming at Alfred about how it was his and Matthew's job to continue his bloodline. Alfred, in return, had told his father that Matthew could do that, and if something happened where Matthew could no longer fulfill that obligation, then Alfred would step in and father children, but until then, a domestic life was not for the young Hetalian treasure.

Currently, the city, and Alfred, was preparing for _Granditer Cultus_, the biggest, longest celebration in all of Hetalian culture. It happened in the middle of summer each year, and the center of it all happened in the middle of the city, right outside the gates of the palace, on a large, open space over the city's grand mosaic, which depicted each of their eleven great gods sitting atop their golden thrones in the stars.

There was dancing, music, plays, food, bonfires, toys, art, wine…the people went all out to celebrate their amazing superiors. Women sang and danced, women from all parts of society, and men played sports and acted in plays and recited pieces of literature in their honor. But the end of the ceremonies, on the final day at sunset exactly, was what was considered both a great gain, and a great loss. While on normal occasions and normal ceremonies, animals or artworks would be offered to the gods, but on the final day of the longest, largest ceremony, human beings—one for each great god—were offered. Sacrificed and burned to be sent to serve the god they were sacrificed to until the end of time. On the first day of the ceremonies, at high noon, the head priestess from each temple of the Eleven Great Ones would come to the king and queen, and tell them who was to be sent to the stars. The king and queen would then send out guards to fetch these people, and they would lavished and given great treatment, living in the palace and eating the best food at the festivities, until it was time to sacrifice them.

"Who do you think they'll be offering this year, Al?" Matthew asked as they helped they accompanied their mother to the market to purchase some wine.

Alfred shrugged, completely unsure. There was never any pattern to who was chosen; no particular trait, no particular gender, nothing. It was always at random. "I don't know, Mattie. Maybe they won't pick anyone this year."

"But that would be a terrible sign!" Matthew trembled a little at the thought. "If the gods no longer wanted us, then that would mean they were going to destroy us, right?"

"You boys really shouldn't be so worried about that," their mother said as she examined some goat cheese. "They'll have their sacrifices; they always do."

"The sacrifices are chosen tomorrow!" Alfred overheard a boy of about thirteen say excitedly as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "I can't wait! I hope I'm chosen! Or one of my brothers or sisters!" The boy was speaking eagerly to himself, but Alfred could see his mother frown and look a little sad. While it was supposed to a great and incredible honor to be chosen, it was also a great and incredible loss to the loved ones of the sacrifices.

"Boys, please gather some fruit," Belinda, Alfred and Matthew's mother, said as she handed the drachmas over to the cheese merchant. "I'll go look for some fleece and wine."

As Alfred and Matthew gathered the sweetest, ripest fruits they could find, Alfred noticed his young friend Kiku standing by the well, getting water. He smiled and went over to him, handing Matthew's the apples he'd grabbed.

"Hi, Kiku!"

Kiku Honda was a pale, short boy, no older than Alfred, with large, dark brown eyes and short, evenly cut black hair. He was slender in frame, but he worked on a farm with his father and siblings, and Alfred had seen him lift very heavy things before. A shy, soft-spoken thing he was, only coming out of his shell whenever Alfred was around. "Hello, Alfred," he said politely, a small smile gracing his lips as he nodded respectfully at the boy. "What brings you to the agora?"

"My mom's getting some supplies for the ceremonies tomorrow, so she asked Mattie and I to come with her, just in case things were too heavy." Alfred smiled and watched Kiku finish filling his two pails and swinging them over his back. "Isn't it the water bearers' job to get water for the people?"

Kiku nodded. "Yes, but they are busy tending to the king, and will be for the rest of the ceremonies, so everybody's getting their own water. You should, too." Kiku smiled up at his friend as he began walking away. "I'll see you tomorrow at the opening festival, Alfred!"

Alfred smiled and bid his friend farewell before coming back to his family. His mother pointed to two large gallons of wine wordlessly, and Al hauled them up under his arms as his brother carried the fruit, cheese, and bread.

**Meanwhile...**

"Your Majesty, we have the identities of this year's sacrifices," one of the priestesses said as she stepped forward, bowing.

The blonde-haired king looked down at the priestess with a glare. It wasn't that he didn't like her; King Vash glared at everyone. "Well? I'm waiting!"

"Alfred Jones, Feliciano Vargas and his brother Lovino, Natalia Arlovskaya, Ludwig Beilschmidt, Charlene Bonnefoy, Toris Laurinaitis, Heracles Karpusi, and Kiku Honda. They are the anointed, the one the gods yearn for this year. We must give them to the gods to keep ourselves safe and prosperous, Your Majesty."

Vash leaned back in his throne and nodded. "I agree. I'll have the guardsmen fetch them in the morning and bring them to the palace. You're dismissed."

**The next morning...**

Alfred was awakened by the sound of violent pounding on his front door and his mother's sobs. He opened his eyes slowly and rubbed them, clearing them of their blurriness. It was dawn, the sky pale pink and pale blue outside, the golden sun just barely peeking over the edge of the horizon. He rose from his bed and wrapped himself in his shift, stepping over to his wooden door.

"Mrs. Jones, you must give us Alfred! He is important!" one of the guards demanded, increasing his mother's weeping.

"Mother?" Alfred peeked out of his room, only to be grabbed and yanked into the arms of one of the guards. He began to struggle, ready to kill them, until he heard Matthew's soft, sad voice speak.

"Al, don't struggle. They need you. The city needs you. You're one of the sacrifices this year." Matthew's voice choked on the last words as he bent over and helped his mother up, holding her as she cried with him.

Alfred was frozen as the guards hauled him out of his home, not even allowing him time to say a proper goodbye for his family. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He was a sacrifice. He was going to be burned alive in front of everyone in the city in the name of the gods. He had only a week to live. And it was very likely that he'd never see his family again.

As he ran over these things in his mind, his hands were tied behind his back and he was pushed onto a wagon with the other sacrifices. The wagon rocked and then started to move as the guards whipped the horses and they began to run. He looked around, taking in the faces of the people no older than him.

Ludwig Beilschmidt was there, his face angry, just as Alfred was sure his was as well; Feliciano Vargas and his brother Lovino were there, clinging to each other, looking terrified as they sobbed on one another's shoulders; Natalia Arlovskaya, a pretty girl with an insane attitude, sat with them, looking quietly irritated; Toris Laurinaitis, a meek boy, was shaking and crying just as badly as the Vargas brothers; Heracles Karpusi, a quiet boy, was sleeping in the wagon, completely unaffected by all the sobbing; Charlene Bonnefoy, a lovely young girl, was trembling as she leaned against Toris, but she wasn't crying; and then there was Kiku, who sat there with a stoic face, looking totally unafraid.

"That's the last of the sacrifices," one of the guards said. "Let's head back to the palace now. The king is probably getting impatient."

"When is he not impatient?" another guard joked, making the others burst out laughing.

Alfred glared at the guards, knowing that if he tried, he'd be able to break free in no time, but he wasn't going to try that, because his conscience was telling him that he might hurt some of the other innocent sacrifices, so he didn't move.

**Later...**

"So, these are the sacrifices?" King Vash looked over his batch of prisoners—or "guests", as he was calling them—like they were lambs to be slaughtered. Which, in the end, they practically were.

Alfred and the others had been brought to the throne room almost immediately after arrival, so Vash could look them over and identify them with the priestesses, to make sure the guards hadn't made a mistake.

The priestess who had told Vash the identities of the sacrifices stepped forward and examined them with somewhat drowsy, but still very wise young eyes. "Oh, yes," she said as she smiled lazily at Vash. "This is them. They will keep the gods pleased with us for another year, Your Majesty."

Vash smiled and clapped his hands together once before turning to the servants lining the walls. "Take each sacrifice to their chambers and prepare them for the day. Remember, dress them and prepare as you would me or my sister; they are our honored guests, and will be treated like nobility!"

The servants bowed and each scattered to grab a sacrifice. Alfred was pulled to his room by a girl with long, pin-straight red hair and wide, dark eyes. She didn't say anything to him as she untied the ropes binding him, nor did she utter a word as she bathed him.

Alfred would never admit it aloud, but he was actually enjoying the warm water and the sweet-scented oils the servant girl rubbed into his skin. Yes, he'd bathed before, but never in such fine ways. So he allowed his body to relax as small, yellow buttercups were woven into his hair and he was dried off. He was in sheer bliss by the time she wrapped him in soft golden robes and began to escort him to the large palace balcony that overlooked the middle of the city. He was smiling lazily as people cheered and praised him, the king, and the other sacrifices.

He was smiling…until he saw his family in the crowd.

**A/N: PAY ATTENTION:**

**Okay, so if anybody is wondering what happened to the third "Beneath the Water, In the Waves" story, I didn't take it down; I think the website did. I tried to re-upload it, but it wouldn't let me, so I just decided to move on. I'm terribly sorry to anybody who was ready it and wanted it to be continued, but FF just won't let me.**

**Anyway, I thought of this back when I was still writing "Find the Pearls", plus it was one of my A/N Questions, so I just decided to write this one.**

**Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 2

Alfred stood on the balcony, relaxed state utterly gone, as he stared down at his terrified brother and his weeping mother. His father was gone, out of town on business, and Alfred couldn't help but pray that he would stay out of town until he was already dead. He looked at the other citizens too, all of them looking happy and cheerful as Vash made his annual speech about how the gods had sent them these blessings and now the gods wanted them back. Alfred felt a sick feeling run through his body, and he was sure it showed on his face. How could they approve of this? How could they see this as something to celebrate? He and these other innocent people were going to be burned alive in front of the whole city as a symbol of loyalty to these so-called gods! He thought back over his life as Vash kept talking. He thought of all the fun he'd had at these same festivities, running around with the other children, laughing, eating delicious food, and just enjoying the week. But his parents never actually allowed him and Matthew to see the grand finale of it all, when the sacrifices were used for the purpose they'd been collected for.

"For the good of the people," Alfred muttered bitterly under his breath, spitting the words out with sarcasm as well. "How can this be good?"

Beside him, the other sacrifices—except for maybe Ludwig—had all seemed to have already forgotten their earlier tears. They were dressed as finely as he was, waving out at the people, laughing, smiling… It made Alfred's sick feeling even worse. But then again, perhaps they were just making the best of what little time they were sure they had left in this world, instead of being bitter and hateful like Alfred was at the moment.

_Maybe I should be doing the same, _he thought as he forced himself to smile as well, raising an arm to wave. As he did, he tried not to meet Matthew's glimmering blue eyes.

**Later...**

"Ve~! Alfred, look at the pretty flowers someone sent me!" Feliciano—no longer streaked with tears, but now the happy ball of sunshine he usually was—bounded up to the blonde boy, holding a bouquet full of orange tiger lilies and yellow roses. His gold eyes shone brightly as he ran his fingers over their soft, colorful petals, plucking on of the blooming stems out to hand to Alfred. "You can have one!"

Alfred accepted the orange tiger lily with a small smile and a nod to Feli, who merely laughed and ran off to offer one to Ludwig, who was studying one of the palaces solid gold statues with interest. The opening ceremony was over, and as Alfred walked through the palace, he could hear music, laughter, singing, and many other festive sounds coming from the city. But even all of those sounds couldn't console him. He knew it was best not to be thinking about how his life was being cut tragically short, yet at the same time, it was all he _could_ think about. Well, that and his sudden disbelief in the gods he'd worshipped his whole life. If they really existed and anointed him before birth, then why would they send him to the mortal world, give him a loving family and good friends, and then rip him away from it all at only the young age of nineteen? It didn't make sense to him!

"I can't believe this is happening…" He had somehow walked his way to the garden, and now he found himself staring down into a pond, watching the sunlight dance across the rippling water. His anger was fading for now, being replaced by sadness and grief. He would be leaving so much behind: friends, family, culture, material items… And to do what? Serve some all-powerful people in the sky who might not exist? Now that he thought about it, that just didn't sound right.

"Alfred?"

Said boy looked up as Kiku emerged from the other side of a very tall rose bush. "Are you all right?" the black-haired boy asked as he made his way over to Alfred.

The blue-eyed one shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Kiku, but this… It just isn't _right_! If these gods love us so much, then why send us here in the first place? Why not keep us with them?"

Kiku shrugged, his pale, usually emotionless face now puzzled slightly. "Perhaps they wanted us to learn the value of being mortal before they took us back."

Alfred snorted and rolled his eyes. "That doesn't sound like a very good reason to me."

Kiku studied his friend closely and sighed. "They'll be okay."

Alfred blinked and looked over at him, confused. "What?"

"Your family. They'll be fine without you. They've got Matthew and plenty of money… They'll be fine." Kiku smiled. "I know mine will. Plenty of crops and children… I think that's why I'm so calm. I know that there isn't much I can do about this, so I'm taking comfort in the fact that I know that my family will be safe without me." His dark eyes turned a little sad, though, but just a little. "Besides, Alfred, we can't run. If we do, they'll just kill us faster. Even with your strength, they'd still get you. Maybe not up close, but from afar, with arrows or something."

"Thanks, Kiku, that really makes me feel better." Alfred sighed and turned to walk back into the palace. "It really does…"

**Later…**

Vash paced in his throne room, royal-blue and gold robes brushing the floor with each impatient turn he made. He had his sacrifices…now he needed to know who was being offered to who! The priestess that was supposed to inform him was late, and if she weren't a vital part in this week's ceremonies, Vash would have already had her beheaded. He may have been a fair and just king, but that didn't mean he wasn't impatient. Finally, after he was sure that he'd been pacing for at least a half hour, the golden doors to his throne room were opened and the priestess walked in.

"Forgive me for being late, Your Majesty, but there was a grape shortage, and the agoras were worried there wouldn't be enough wine for the festivities, so I was praying all morning." She bowed deeply before smiling at him.

Vash nodded and waved off the information. "As long as it's taken care of… So who is being offered to who?"

"Oh, right!" The priestess giggled as if she'd just remembered why she was here in the first place, and then she cleared her throat. "Ludwig is going to be sacrificed to the God of War, Feliciano is going to be given to the King of the Gods, Heracles is going to the Queen of the Gods, Alfred will be sacrificed to the God of the Sea, Lovino is going to be the God of Animal's gift, Kiku is for the God of Wisdom, Natalia will be offered to the Goddess of Agriculture and Fertility, Toris will be burned for the God of Death, and we will give Charlene to the God of Love and Beauty."

Vash nodded. "Excellent. What about the Guardian and the Goddess of Nature? Or the God of Music and Arts?"

The priestess shrugged. "The Guardian never requests a sacrifice, and the Arts God and the Nature Goddess didn't request one either."

The young king nodded. "Fine. You may go now, that's all I needed."

**Meanwhile…**

Alfred was taking advantage of the little time he had in the splendid palace by looking at beautifully carved marble statues and searching for secret passageways; so far, he'd only found three, and they all led to the same place: the library. He sighed as he walked down a long hallway filled with statues of the gods.

He passed Ivan, the God of Death, with his long black robes and merciless stare; Elizabeta, the Goddess of Nature, with her kind, but stern gaze; Gilbert, the God of War, who bore a victorious smirk and long, sharp sword; Avitus, the King of the Gods, who smiled, body draped in the finest armor in heaven; Chara, the Queen of the Gods, who wore a golden crown and fine robes; Francis, the God of Love and Beauty, who wore almost nothing but a simple flower and a sultry gaze; Antonio, the God of Family and Animals, who smiled brightly and wore robes from the waist down, revealing his chest; Irunya, the Goddess of Agriculture and Fertility, who peeked shyly at Alfred and attempted to cover her chest with a cloak; Roderich, the God of Music and Arts, who was dressed almost as nicely as the King, and sneered at Alfred; Yao, the God of Wisdom, who had his long hair in a ponytail and wore a superior smile; and finally, he came to Arthur, the ruthless God of the Sea, who glared at Alfred, dressed in pearls and fine robes.

It amazed Alfred how well the sculptor who'd made these statues had captured precisely how these gods were supposed to look. And it also frightened him. He didn't know who he was going to be given to, and for what purpose was he made to do once he met them? He hoped he wouldn't become one of Ivan's Reapers… Being a Hunter with Antonio didn't sound too bad…

"Whatever and whoever it is," he whispered to himself, still staring at the statue of Arthur, "I hope it's worth being burned alive."

**A/N:**

**And there's chapter 2! Sorry this is so short, I'm kind of getting over a rash that I got on my arms from a cold. It's starting to go away, but it's still kind of itchy, so I didn't want to stay still for too long and make it worse. And I don't have a lot to say, so…**

**Bye! Love you guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Quick A/N: Just to clear this up, so no one is confused, Avitus is Grandpa Rome, Chara is Ancient Greece, and Irunya is Ukraine.**

Chapter 3

The week went by fairly fast for Alfred, unfortunately. It had been full of feasts with delicious food, sweet wine, relaxing hot baths, and the softest clothes ever put on his body. Sadly, though, it all came to an end when he was woken up on Sunday morning. He shuddered all day as he was dressed, bathed, and fed. He tried to keep himself from crying or struggling when the guards led him to the large stake he was about to be tied to. He kept himself from screaming and struggling when he was tied to the stake. And as the priestesses lit the pile of wood at his feet, he did his best to restrain his screams of anger, horror, and agony. But it didn't work.

As the golden flames quickly made their way up the pile of wood, getting closer to the skin of his feet, Alfred found himself actually praying for the first time since he'd been taken from his home a week ago. He prayed to any god he hoped would listen for help. He—

"AHHHH!"

The scream tore its way through his throat as he was burned, and tears ran down his face. He could faintly hear the screams of the other sacrifices, but the thing that roared most in his ears, taunting him, was the flickering flames. Their little sparks of sound laughed at him as they ran over his skin, tearing into him and turning his bones to ash. Finally, the world—now blocked by blood and flames—turned to nothing, and Alfred was aware that he was dead.

**Later…**

Alfred opened his eyes feeling…different. He felt…lighter, not as heavy as he had when he was alive. Looking around, he was momentarily hit with a blinding light before a happy, loud laugh rang around him. He lifted his head off the cool, marble floor to look around. And he felt his unbeating heart drop into his stomach.

He was in the gods' throne room. And they were all staring at him.

He glanced around to the see the other sacrifices slowly coming to beside him, so he stayed frozen, respectively trying not to meet any of the gods' eyes. However, he felt like only one of them in particular was watching him, so he glanced up for a brief second to see which one it was and jumped a little when he saw Arthur's emerald eyes locked on him from his silver throne. Alfred had heard legends of the Sea God's beauty, that his skin was as pale as the moon that moved his waves, his eyes as green as the flowing plants that lived in his oceans, and that his hair was as gold as the currency thrown into the seas for luck before travel. And Alfred now realized—as he stared into Arthur's stern, slightly bored eyes—that all those legends were true. Arthur was as lovely as all the songs and myths portrayed him to be, and it stole Alfred's breath away.

"Stop staring at me, git! Have some respect!"

Alfred's world shattered.

_Oh, right,_ he thought bitterly as he looked away from Arthur. _He's not the nicest god in heaven. _But at the same time, even though those words had been thrown at him with distaste and venom, he could at least admire the beautiful voice itself.

When Lovino, the final sacrifice to awaken, had regained his senses and ability to speak and think coherently, Avitus rose from his large golden throne and smiled.

"Welcome, young sacrifices. I, as you probably already know, am Avitus, King of the Gods and God of Royalty. Now that you have arrived, you can be given to your intended new masters and begin serving them. Feliciano, come to me." The golden-eyed King flashed a smile at the younger Vargas boy, who smiled and immediately ran to Avitus. Once Feliciano was standing faithfully beside his throne, Avitus sat down.

One by one, the gods claimed their sacrifices. Lovino became one of Antonio's Hunters, Ludwig became a Warrior for Gilbert, Chara took Heracles as one of her Cupbearers, Irunya made Natalia a Farmer, Toris reluctantly became a Reaper for Ivan, Kiku happily became a Scholar for Yao, and Charlene was one of Francis' Nymphs. In the end, Alfred was the only one left, and the only gods without sacrifices were Arthur, Roderich, and Elizabeta. He shook under their stares, wondering which one he would go to and be forced to serve for eternity.

"Wanker, get over here!"

Alfred's silent heart sunk deeper, and before he could refuse, he felt a strange sensation in his body, one that literally made him stand and walk to Arthur. A Sailor. A Sailor for the Sea God until the end of time.

**Later…**

Alfred obediently followed Arthur to his chambers in the gods' palace, despite how much he wished he wouldn't, but that urge to obey and be good was back.

Arthur lived in a large room filled with twinkling gems, luminescent pearls, bubbling fountains, white marble, and a bed covered in blue, white, and green silks. The room had a fresh scent to it, one that reminded Alfred of just stepping outside in the morning, when it was warm, but there was still fog floating near the ground. He shuddered as he waited patiently by the door under Arthur's instructions, merely taking in the room as the Sea God did something behind a large pillar.

Alfred was unsure of how to feel at the moment. Yes, he was grateful that he hadn't been given to someone worse, like Ivan, but at the same time, he was still full of rage and anger from being torn away from his life to serve some bitter, angry…positively gorgeous Sea God. The blue-eyed boy sighed. As much as he wanted to express how mad he was, his new feeling of absolute obedience wouldn't allow him. Any words against Arthur that were about to leave his tongue were shoved back down his throat. Any thoughts of malice toward the god were erased immediately from his brain.

Alfred was sure that he was about as unwillingly as a servant could get.

"Well?" he asked after a moment, wanting to sound impatient, but instead sounding the most patient he'd ever been. "Am I going to be made to do something?"

At that moment, Arthur stepped out from behind the pillar, and Alfred almost lost all of the breath that he didn't need.

Arthur's body was bare from the waist up, showing off his moon-white, slender, yet still powerful torso. Around his soft-looking, lily-white throat, he wore a long, golden chain that had a single, large sapphire on the end of it, the very center of the sapphire giving off some kind of faint, yet commanding glow. Gold chains wrapped their way up around Arthur's arms, starting at gold bands at his wrists and stopping at gold armbands on his biceps. He wore small gold hoop earrings, and around his waist was a belt made of blue pearls, and that belt held up white chiffon robes that parted at Arthur's knees and showed Alfred his smooth and sleek legs. His green eyes were smoldering with power, beckoning the young sacrifice closer, possibly without even trying.

Alfred was positive that he had never seen a sight more perfect in his life, and he wanted to get a closer look, to touch, to make sure that what he was seeing was real, and not some death-created dream. _Perhaps this is heaven,_ he thought, enchanted, as he took a single step forward—only to be stopped by two statues moving spears in front of him. He blinked in confusion and looked at Arthur over the spears.

"What?" Arthur rolled his jewel-toned eyes and put his hands on his slightly curvy hips as he walked over to a table filled with the finest fruit Alfred had ever seen. "Did you think I was going to let you touch me so easily? I'm not Francis, you know." He popped a grape into his mouth. "If you want to be able to touch me, you're going to have to prove to me that you're worthy of being in my bed."

At those words, laced with that superior tone, Alfred was pulled entirely from his enchantment, and he shook his mind to clear it, glaring slightly at Arthur. "Why would I want to touch someone who had me pulled from my home and burned for his own amusement?" He smirked, glad that his new obedience hadn't been able to stop him from saying that.

Arthur paused in drinking some kind of clear, bright blue liquid from a crystal goblet. His eyes burned with emerald fire as he looked over at Alfred. "You were chosen. That is how it must be. I did not choose you for myself. I would never have chosen someone so…" He trailed off for a moment, looking over Alfred, before rolling his eyes again. "Someone so disrespectful and childlike."

"What?! I'm not disrespectful and childlike!" Alfred tried to move around the statues to get to the god, but every time he did, the marble men were right in front of him once more, determined to protect their master, and made from heavenly materials so strong, Alfred couldn't break them.

"You just proved my point, love." Arthur sipped the blue liquid and smirked at Alfred before walking gracefully over to his large bed and lounging across it on his side. "Avitus probably made a mistake. You were probably meant to go to Gilbert or Ivan; they love taming wild things. I, on the other hand, have very little patience for such things. You'd probably be worthless to me."

Alfred growled. He was far from worthless, and there had been no mistake! He would prove that to Arthur if it took the rest of eternity—which, with this god's attitude, the boy realized it might. But nevertheless, he would prove himself. "I'm not worthless. You'll see. I'll be your best Sailor ever."

That pretty little smirk curled its way across Arthur's lovely features and he snapped his fingers, the sea foam-green chiffon curtains around his bed closing. "We shall see about that, dear Alfred."

**Meanwhile…**

Matthew had never felt so…_empty_ before. He'd never felt so alone. His father was still gone on business, and his mother was busy crying her eyes out and possibly dying of a broken heart back at the house. But Matthew stayed rooted to the same spot he'd been in when he'd watched his only brother burn.

Memories ran through his mind like someone had pressed a replay button on his brain. He saw himself and Alfred when they'd been six and hid in the forest to avoid bath time. He saw himself and Alfred when Al had picked up a boulder to get his favorite toy back for him. He saw himself and Alfred meeting Kiku at fourteen…

Tears finally sprang forth and ran down his face for the first time in a week. It had just hit him, and hard, like a rock to the stomach.

"I'm all alone now," Matthew whispered to nobody but the cold wind.

**A/N:**

**I'm so sorry this took so long! My health had been terrible lately. I got sick, then I got a rash, then I got a bad pain in my side from my mattress… But I'm better now! I'm also really sorry if this chapter seems short too, but I hope I satisfied you.**

**Anyway, other than that apology, I have nothing else to say except that I love you guys, and goodbye!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 4

The Underworld was a dark, depressing place. It was filled with strange caverns, empty moans, and ice-cold mist. It had no scent whatsoever, not even one of dust, and if you were to look at something in it for too long, a lost soul would begin to form.

And it was in this terrible, sad place that Toris knew he would have to spend the rest of eternity.

A black cloak had been wrapped around his shoulders by Ivan as they approached the _Aeterna Aqua_, otherwise known as the River of Souls, a lake that separated the human world from the Underworld. It had no end, since its gray depths weren't made from water, but from the liquefied souls of those so evil, they deserved no afterlife, and if you were to fall in, not even Ivan himself could save you from their greedy, cold hands. Resting on the shores of the _Aeterna Aqua_ was a large, ancient-looking ship. It creaked and groaned, lanterns that glowed pale blue hanging from the ropes on its sides, and it was decorated with patches of black moss. It made Toris shudder just looking at it.

"Is this him?" a voice said, and the voice was both lovely as music, and haunting as a whisper in the dead of night. It was a female voice, but it was soft and echo-like, the kind of voice you'd expect a ghost to have.

Ivan, still grinning that extremely disconcerting grin, nodded and pushed Toris ahead of him as two clouds of black mist flowed off the ship and swirled around each other. When the clouds parted, their stood the most beautiful girl Toris had ever seen.

Her hair was long and curly, almost falling to her waist, and it seemed to have an ombre affect to it: her roots were dark brown, but slowly the length of her hair became lighter shades of brown, until the very tips of her curls were blonde. Her skin was as pale as the moon, and he was willing to bet that it was as cold as the rest of this place was. The paleness of her skin, though, brought much attention to her almond-shaped eyes, which were a deep purple, like a jewel, and framed by thick lashes. She wore a floor-length, one-shoulder black gown with a white fur wrap around her shoulders. Toris couldn't see her feet, but from the way the black smoke seemed to coil around her, he assumed she probably didn't have any, but he didn't want to glance down to find out.

"Hello," he managed to get out in a slight squeak before two of her death-cold fingers touched the underside of his chin and brought his face closer. She studied him closely, as if assessing each and every flaw and perfection, before pushing his head away and floating back up to the ship.

"Well, come on, Your Majesty," she said to Ivan. "I haven't got all day."

Ivan smiled and grabbed Toris' shoulder, floating up to the ship with him. The dead girl snapped her fingers and the eerie ship pulled away from the shore and began to float across the _Aeterna Aqua_, pulling Toris away from the world of the living.

**Meanwhile…**

Alfred sat on a cloud in the heavens, watching some fishermen cast out their nets in the bright blue sea below. This was his job as one of Arthur's Sailors…or at least _one_ of his jobs. He had been told there were more, but this was his main job. To watch over those who crossed the waters, for whatever reason it may be, and help keep them safe if they had prayed to Arthur beforehand, or to help make their journey hard if they hadn't. Luckily for these fishermen, they had prayed.

"I'm so bored," he whispered to himself, watching the fishermen catch a large amount of fish in their net.

"How sad for you, love," he heard Arthur taunt, and felt the cloud float down a little as the god stepped onto it. Arthur was dressed in a short, one-shoulder blue silk robe and a golden belt encrusted with emeralds. His feet were bare, though he wore golden anklets, and that same glowing sapphire necklace from before was around his neck. Atop his head was a golden chain with blue pearls on it.

Alfred was about to snap at Arthur about how he shouldn't gloat or rub it in, but before he could, his new instinctual obedience stopped him, so all he could do was glare.

"Although, I must say," Arthur began as he sat down beside Alfred and overlooked the fishermen with him, "you _are_ doing rather well for a beginner. Usually it takes new Sailors months, possibly a whole _year_ to catch on, but you seem to have gotten the hang of it in less than a few days. I'm very impressed, Alfred." He smiled, and the gesture was so genuine and beautiful that Alfred momentarily forgot how he could ever be angry with something so perfectly built as Arthur. Then Arthur spoke again. "But you're still not welcome in my bed yet."

Alfred grit his teeth as Arthur stood and hopped off the cloud, back to his little chambers. "We'll see about that…"

**Meanwhile…**

Feliciano had been let off his Cupbearer duties early by Avitus to do something else, and the first thing he did was make his way to Gilbert's area of the gods' palace, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ludwig training. He'd heard at last night's dinner, as he poured wine for the King of the Gods, that Ludwig was doing extremely well, and that today he'd be training with Gilbert himself, instead of one of the other Warriors.

As he wandered into the War God's chambers, Feli was a bit intimidated by all the weaponry and vain paintings and busts he saw, but he was soon distracted from all those things when he heard the sound of clanging metal coming from the end of the halls. He ran toward it and opened one of the double-doors he came to, peering inside. It was a giant, dusty arena with no ceiling, so the sun was beating down on the two men as they fought, and an assortment of weapons were thrown all over the ground, from axes to arrows, from shields to swords.

Ludwig was indeed fighting with Gilbert, just as the War God had said he would. His normally slicked back blonde hair fell in his sweat-drenched face a little as he swung his sword powerfully at Gilbert, who saw it coming in the knick of time and blocked it with his shield. They seemed to be opposites. While Ludwig's face showed only a strong mask of concentration and determination, Gilbert's face showed many emotions, from gasping surprise to smirking vanity.

"Ve~," Feliciano said softly, watching them with a smile.

Eventually, the pair stopped, both sweating and panting. Gilbert said something Feliciano couldn't hear before patting Ludwig on the back and walking out of the arena through another door. Ludwig smiled to himself and turned to the door Feli was looking through, pausing when he saw him.

"Feliciano?"

"Ah!" Feli, without a second thought, let out a small squeak and turned around, running right back to the throne room, face bright red

**Later…**

Alfred sighed as he watched the moon rise into the sky and the stars appear to light the dark blanket of night. He was not Night Sailor, he was a Day one, so he was free to go. He climbed off his cloud and walked quickly through Arthur's chambers, glancing at the large, comfortable looking bed. What he wouldn't give to sleep in it… He'd had to sit on it once before when Arthur was explaining how being one of his Sailors worked, and when he had, he'd almost fallen asleep right where he was sitting.

"Alfred, stop right there."

Alfred froze as he reached the doors, his hand literally not two inches from grabbing the door handles. _What can he possibly want now?,_ Alfred thought, both with exhaustion and bitterness. Despite the fact that all he wanted to do at the moment was tell Arthur to go screw himself and then go to sleep in his own bed, he turned around to face the Sea God and said, "What do you need?"

Arthur was now bare of all clothing and jewelry, except for his ever-present sapphire necklace and a small white wrap around his waist that covered his private areas. He strode over to his bed, jumped over the small river that surrounded it, and sat down, pulling the covers over himself. "You may sleep in my bed tonight, but only _sleep_. As a gift for all your hard work."

Alfred's mouth dropped open a little as he stared at the god in shock and happiness. "Thank you…" His voice was a slightly confused whisper as he made his way over to the bed and got in, sighing in relief the second his body met the soft cushions and was covered by the warm, silken blankets.

The Sailor boy was lulled to sleep in no time at all.

**A/N:**

**Well, my spring break's over. Sad face… Anyway, I wanted this to be a little highlight of my day, since it's also my dad's birthday today, and I don't particularly like spending time with my family.**

**I don't have much to say, so…**

**Bye! Love you guys!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 5

The morning sun shone brightly into the gleaming halls of the gods' palace as it rose. Most were still asleep, but it was part of Alfred's job to awaken early in the morning, so the second the first ray of sunshine flowed into Arthur's bedchamber, the young Sailor's deep blue eyes fluttered open…and the first thing he saw was Arthur's peaceful, lovely sleeping face.

The green-eyed god was curled up in a ball next to Alfred, facing him, still lost in blissful slumber. It was the first time Alfred had ever seen Arthur without a superior or mocking look on his face, and for a minute, he thought he was still dreaming. Slowly and quietly, so as not to wake Arthur, Alfred reached out and very gently ran a hand down Arthur's cheek, eyes widening at how unbelievably soft and smooth his skin was. It was even better than this bedding!

Alfred stayed there staring and lightly touching until Arthur mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and turned over, causing the young sacrifice to smile a little and carefully climb out of bed and step over the small stream around it. He made his way out to the clouds again and sat down on one, admiring it golden-pink color from the lifting sun, and looked down at the sea to start his day.

**Meanwhile…**

It had been a few days—maybe a week, Matthew wasn't sure—since his brother had been sacrificed to the gods, and life just kept getting worse. The death of his brother had brought on depression, not only on himself but also his mother, and his father hadn't spoken a word since he'd returned home the day after the sacrifice and Matthew had told him what happened. No longer was the Jones family a happy, rich family. They were still rather wealthy, of course, but not even all the gold in the world could make them happy now, with Alfred gone. But the sadness seemed to be the worst on Matthew.

Alfred's twin had become antisocial, sending his friends away with his blank silence whenever they tried to cheer him up. Within a few days, he'd scared everyone but his parents away, and he was sure that if they could leave, they probably would. He'd turned his friends, his tutors, his neighbors, his _everyone_ away. And he was sure his own mother and father would be next.

**Meanwhile…**

Toris shuffled through the palace of the Underworld, body trembling slightly, as he glanced this way and that. He was keeping an eye out for Ivan or his little servant, Adrianna, the ghost-like girl who'd ferried him across the _Aeterna Aqua_. One was mentally cracked and disturbing in a I'm-going-to-hurt-you-if-you-don't-do-as-I-say kind of way, and the other was sadistically seductive in a I'll-use-you-for-my-own-purposes-when-this-is-over -and-you'll-let-me kind of way. They were equally frightening, in their own respective ways, and Toris didn't want anything to do with either of them.

"Toris."

Too late.

The young man jumped and shuddered visibly as he turned around, coming face-to-face with Ivan's wide, shining lavender eyes. "Y-Yes…?" Toris muttered out, trying to look away.

The Death God smiled strangely and tilted his head to the side a little, his eyes closed. Even if you were the most optimistic person in the world, you would be able to see pure evil and wickedness in that look. "I have a job for you."

"Oh…? And it is…?" Toris was trying very hard not to break down in tears from fear and intimidation.

Ivan opened his eyes a little, revealing an odd twinkle in them. "I need you to deliver my wrath to some pitiful mortal who claims he is my son."

Toris' eyes widened and he shook more. Ivan hadn't ever really asked him to Reap anyone, despite the fact that he was a Reaper. Ivan usually treated him like a housemaid or made him ferry souls with Adrianna, but he'd never been asked to actually go out and claim a life!

The silver-haired god pulled a long scythe from his dark robes, its blade sharp, flawless, as if it had just been made. Without waiting for an answer from Toris, he placed the scythe in the latter's hand and walked away, down the dark, blue fire-lit halls.

The young sacrifice looked down at the weapon in his hands, confliction clear in his sweet blue eyes. If he refused to do this, then who knows what terrible thing Ivan would do to him? But at the same time, he didn't have the heart to end someone's life, even if they were stupid enough to claim relation to Ivan.

"You heard His Viciousness!" a soft, musical, echo-like, angry voice snapped from behind him, making him jump and yelp, almost dropping the scythe. "Hop to it! Go, Toris!" There was a sweet, sadistic laugh after that, and Adrianna floated by him, smirking, wearing her black gown and white fur wrap.

He glared at her back, blushing, and grumbled under his breath, reluctantly following her out of the palace, across the Underworld, and to the _Aeterna Aqua_.

**Later…**

It was noon by now, and Alfred was sitting on his cloud, counting the minutes, when he noticed something interesting out of the corner of his eye. His breath caught in his throat.

"Father's ship," he breathed as he stared. It had just set sail, but…something didn't seem right.

"Alfred, do you see that ship down there?" Arthur appeared on Alfred's cloud, pointing to his father's ship, dressed in a soft green robe that began under his shoulders. Alfred nodded and watched Arthur frown. "He did not pray to me before setting sail. He is either very brave or very stupid."

Alfred glared and opened his mouth to bark at Arthur, but before his obedience could stop him or he could get it out, a voice from below caught his ear. It was his father, screaming his anger to the heavens.

"You selfish gods! You careless bastards! You have taken happiness from me and my family! You have taken my son! What more can you take but me?! Matthew?! My wife?! Go on, kill me! Kill me!"

Arthur stared down at Alfred's father with an indiscernible look, his head tilting. "That is your father, isn't it, Alfred?"

Alfred stared at his father in horror. What was he _doing_?! Why was he _trying_ to get killed?! Matthew and their mother _needed_ him! He couldn't do this! Alfred was about to do something when the clouds he sat on suddenly darkened and grew heavy with water, the waves below thrashing and shoving the ship, and the faint sound of thunder rumbled the heavens.

"Arthur, please don't—"

"Alfred." Arthur looked over at him with sad green eyes. "I'm not doing anything."

Alfred stared in shock, looking all over Arthur for signs that he was using his powers. He saw none. Arthur was just sitting there, watching this unfold with him. He wasn't responsible.

Alfred felt tears in his eyes. All he could do now was watch his father die.

**A/N: FUN QUESTION TIME!**

**So sorry this took me like three weeks to update, my school was doing finals and testing and other stressful junk. But I'm back! Anyway, this is kind of short because I want to save some stuff for the next chapter, hope you guys don't mind.**

**Fun Question 1: If you could crossover Hetalia with anything—doesn't have to be another anime, can be a book you've read, a movie you've seen, etc.—what would you cross it with? (I, personally, would choose _Alice in Wonderland_ or _Hunger Games_, but that's just me.)**

**Fun Question 2: If you could spend a day with any gender-bent Hetalia character, who would it be and what would you do?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

Chapter 6

The waves became more violent and the winds howled like angry monsters. Alfred could no longer hear his father screaming his angers to the clouds no matter how hard he tried, and it was also becoming hard to see from how dark the clouds around him were becoming. As he began to panic and reach out blindly for something to balance him, he felt his body tipping forward, and just as he was about to literally fall from heaven, Arthur's arms encircled hi waist and quickly pulled him back up.

"Alfred!" he heard Arthur shout over the rain and wind, "We have to get back into the palace!" Before he could protest, Arthur's slender hand was holding his rougher one and guiding him back into the calm, peaceful warmth of Arthur's bedchamber.

Alfred sat on Arthur's bed quietly for a minute as the Sea God fussed around the room for blankets and candles to keep the room warm as the storm raged outside. Soon, Alfred felt a white fur pelt being wrapped around his body, and he finally managed to blink and look up.

Arthur had changed into a dark blue, loose-fitting long-sleeved shirt with a deep V-neck, the V-neck embroidered with silver thread, along with the hem of the shirt, and matching, loose-fitting pants. His feet remained bare and that necklace was still dangling from his slender neck, but he wore a floor-length, open white fur coat, the coat's sleeves holding Arthur's arms, but the coat itself not quite on Arthur's shoulders. In all honesty, Alfred felt like it was the first time he'd ever seen Arthur with clothes on his torso.

"Arthur," he said softly, but found himself unable to say anything else but the lovely god's name. It was simply Alfred repeating "Arthur" quietly over and over until he felt one of the Sea God's slender, pale fingers press gently to his lips.

"Shh, love, I'm trying to listen." Arthur's voice was demanding, as usual, but it was gentle too, something Alfred was unaccustomed to from him. Alfred wasn't sure if it was his newfound natural obedience or his own decision to listen to Arthur for once, but he quickly fell silent and watch his companion's emerald eyes dart around.

"Ah," Arthur said after a moment with a small, sad smile. "Now I understand."

Alfred blinked in confusion. "What? What do you understand? What's happening? What about my father? If you didn't cause the storm, what did?"

Arthur shushed him again and sat beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Now, sweet Alfred, I am not the only god who can create storms. Avitus can, as he is the King of the Gods, and so can Ivan, the God of Death."

Alfred was confused again. "Why can Ivan create storms? Why would he? He lives in the Underworld!"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, but when he sends his Reapers out for a particularly large haul of souls, the power of such activities can make storms. This one should pass in a few hours, so just stay here and relax, okay?"

"And my father…?"

Arthur's beautiful green eyes lowered and he frowned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, love…"

Alfred was sure that if his heart still beat, it would've stopped, and if he still needed to breathe, said breath would've caught in his throat. He didn't know how to feel. "I…I…NO!" He got up, clutching the warm white fur pelt to his body and pacing back and forth in front of Arthur's soft bed with his head down. "No…"

Arthur sat there quietly, watching his young sacrifice pace the room in the first stage of grief: denial. "Alfred—"

"Are you sure you're not mistaken?" His wide blue eyes were full of such lost hope, Arthur almost said he was, but he shook his head. "But, without my father, how will my mother and Matthew survive…?"

Arthur shrugged helplessly. "I am not a money god, Alfred, I can't help you with that. I'm sorry."

Alfred suddenly felt a huge, powerful rush of anger spread through his body, and he glared up at Arthur. "That's right, you _can't_ help me, and you never could or did! You didn't try to save my father or stop the storm or anything! You just let him _die_!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and walked across the room, filling a crystal goblet with some of that blue liquid he'd been drinking on Alfred's first day here. He ignored anything Alfred yelled at him, because he knew it was just the boy going through the second stage of grief: anger.

**Meanwhile…**

Matthew watched the storm emotionlessly, shaking his head. His mother was asleep, but he knew where his father was. His father was deep under the waves, cold, pale, and dead as a doornail.

"This is what you died for, Al," he whispered. "This is what you died for."

**Meanwhile…**

Alfred was passed the stage of anger now, but he'd moved on to an even more annoying stage: bargaining. He'd been following Arthur around for about an hour, begging with him, pleading with him to let him go to the Underworld and get his father's soul, but Arthur refused, because Alfred himself was a disembodied soul, in a way. If he went to get his father's soul, he would be trapped down there forever, for only the living, gods, and Reapers could leave the Underworld once they entered it.

And now Alfred was curled up on the bed, crying into the fur pelt wrapped around him, finally into the fourth stage: sadness. Arthur was sure that the boy's loud sobs had awoken some of the palace by this point, so he came over to Alfred and hesitantly pulled him close.

"Alfred, please stop crying…" Arthur's voice was soft and gentle to Alfred's ears, like someone was dropping down feathers on Alfred and he could barely feel them.

The softness of Arthur's sweet voice surprised Alfred, and he lifted his head to stare at Arthur in shock, no longer weeping. "You're being…nice. Why?"

Arthur glared slightly at him and decided to lie. "Because I don't want to see you sad." Then he smirked a little. "Plus, you're ruining your new gift, love."

The blue-eyed sacrifice looked down at the fur pelt in his arms, then his eyes widened. "Wait… I can have this?!" His voice was a mixture of happiness and shock. "But it's so…luxurious!"

Arthur shrugged and ran his fingers through Alfred's hair, smiling. "You deserve it, poppet, after what you've been through. And…you also deserve…this." Without warning, Arthur pulled Alfred close and kissed him gently.

**A/N: FUN QUESTION TIME/SOMETHING NEW**

**Wow, I suck at updating fast… Sorry, everyone. Anyway, this has been a crazy week for me. First, my cousin who I've never met before came and visited from North Dakota, and she stayed at my house. Then it was my birthday, so my friend and I went shopping in another city, but it was hot as hell there, so we ended up visiting its water park too. And I'm really sorry that this is short, but the business aforementioned kept me from writing a lot, so…**

**Question: If you could be the ruler of any country (i.e, a president or a monarch, etc.), which country would you pick, why did you pick it, and what would your first order of business be?**

**Something New:**

**Okay, I thought of this last night while I was playing a game with my cousin. I'm going to give you an occupation for a pairing (can be any pairing you want), and you're going to tell me who you think goes with which occupation. It'll go like this, if that description was confusing.**

**Coffee shop owner/employee (uke/bottom): *insert uke/bottom of pairing here***

**Regular customer (seme/top): *insert seme/top of pairing here***

**Okay, bye guys! Again, sorry for the wait and the shortness! Love you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 7

Alfred's shiny blue eyes widened as he felt Arthur's soft, pale red lips against his own shell-pink ones. They were like little pillows on the Sea God's face, and they'd been taunting Alfred since his arrival in the gods' palace. But now he could only sit there in shock as Arthur pressed said silky lips against his more insistently, trying to work out a response before pulling back and frowning.

"What's wrong, Alfred? I thought you wanted to kiss me." The golden-blonde looked slightly hurt and Alfred just lost it.

He tangles his fingers in Arthur's soft, honey-colored hair and happily brought his lips to his, shuddering from the quiet, pleased noise Arthur made as he wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck.

_Maybe, _Alfred thought as Arthur pushed them over and crawled over Alfred, _this isn't so bad._

**Meanwhile…**

Toris trudged into the Underworld, Adrianna at his side. He had the scythe Ivan had given him in one hand and a bag full of souls in the other. His head was down and his eyes were blank as he tried very hard not to think about what he'd just spent all day doing. All the sadness, fear, and anger he'd seen today… He could now understand why all the legends he'd heard about Reapers as a child portrayed them as cold, emotionless beings. Perhaps he was truly becoming like those legendary ones…

_But wait, _he thought, glancing at Adrianna, _she's not emotionless. Sure, she can be cold, but she's not emotionless. Then again, she's Ivan's right-hand…woman? And I think she's a ghost… _He quickly lowered his head once more before the purple-eyed ghost could catch him looking.

They went into Ivan's throne room, a room decorated with black and white marble, all windows in the room drawn with silky black curtains. Ivan's throne was a large thing made of marble and silver, the cushions purple velvet, while the back of the throne was completely covered in ancient skulls. And currently, the God of Death himself sat upon it, smiling as if all were right with the world.

"Did you complete the mission?" He tilted his head toward the bag Toris was carrying and the meek Reaper nodded slowly.

"Y-Yes, Your Imperial Viciousness." He handed the bag to Ivan, who opened it, and the brightly-glowing souls of the dead flew out, Ivan letting all but one—the soul of the man who'd claimed relation to him—go.

"Excellent. You have the rest of the day off, Toris."

And Toris dropped the scythe and fled the throne room faster than Ivan had ever seen anyone do.

**Meanwhile…**

Kiku was currently in the Library of Time with Yao, hanging onto his every word as Yao explained the history of the universe, from the Great Beginning to how he believed everything would end. Yao was believed to be one of the oldest gods in the palace, apart from Avitus, Chara, Arthur, and Ivan.

He had long, dark brown hair that looked black in some lights, hair that he usually tied back in a ponytail, though Kiku sometimes had the fortune of being able to brush out Yao's long dark locks. His skin was pale and his eyes were wide and shone with intelligence and experience, and Kiku wanted to know all the things that made Yao's eyes shine in that way. Today, Yao wore a silky, long-sleeved red shirt with a high collar, the sleeves and collar embroidered with gold silk. His pants were a matching red with gold embroidery, and he wore little gold silk slippers.

"Kiku, here is Birth of Arthur," Yao said, handing Kiku an old scroll. "It very important. Read and tell me exact story in morning." Then the Wisdom God left.

**Meanwhile...**

Matthew was growing tired. Not sleepy tired, but just sick of being alone. His mother was probably dying of a broken heart in her room and he'd lost everyone else.

"I'm not going to stand for this anymore," he growled to himself. And without even bothering to tell his mother he was leaving, Matthew put on his cloak and headed over to a friend's house.

**Meanwhile…**

Arthur had Alfred shirtless and pressed into his soft bed while the god himself was still fully clothed. Alfred pouted at this and tugged lightly on Arthur's soft shirt, not wanting to tear such a delicate fabric. With a small smirk, Arthur pulled back and shed the fur pelt first before lifting off the silken shirt slowly, leaving that damn blue necklace on as always. Arthur was slender and pale, his body slightly curved like a woman's, and it made Alfred's mouth water and his hands itch to touch, like the first time he'd seen Arthur half-naked. This time, however, Arthur let him touch.

Alfred felt Arthur's smaller, softer hands guide his own to Arthur's torso, allowing him to caress the beautiful body above him; and caress Alfred did. Arthur's milky skin was smooth to the touch and when Alfred leaned up a little closer, he detected the faint scent of honey and berries, making him lick his lips. He ran one hand upward on Arthur's torso and the other one downward, gladly exploring each dip and curve on his own sweet time. Slowly, he leaned forward and licked Arthur's skin a little, smiling. He even tasted like honey and berries.

"Alfred, I appreciate the petting, poppet, but I'm not a crystal doll." Arthur pushed Alfred back down and nipped his neck a little. "Mmm… You taste like rain and salt and sunshine…" He lapped at Alfred's pulse a little and the sacrifice shivered. Alfred suddenly wanted to know what rain and salt and sunshine tasted like so he could slather himself in it and make an Arthur-nip.

Their moment was cut short, though, when a knock on the door sounded through the room and Arthur was redressed and answering it faster than Alfred could even blink.

"Hello, Feliciano," Arthur said with a smile, as if he and Alfred hadn't just been making out on his bed. "What brings you here?"

"Ve~ Avitus is holding a meeting in the throne room and wants all the gods to be there." The little idiot smiled and bounced happily in his place, unaware of the situation he'd just interrupted.

"Right now?" Arthur's voice was tense, holding back his anger, because he knew speaking that way would frighten Feliciano right out of the palace. "Are you sure?"

"Yep. I've only got to go see Big Brother and Antonio now. See ya!" The boy skipped off.

Alfred frowned and got up, wrapping his arms around Arthur. "Don't go. I'm sure Avitus won't mind you missing _one _meeting."

Arthur rolled his eyes and wriggled out of Alfred's grip, leaning up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. "He's the King of the Gods, Alfred. If I don't go without a very good reason as to why I'm not there, I'll be killed. Don't worry, I'll be back soon." And with a wink, Arthur left Alfred alone.

**A/N: FUN QUESTION TIME/SOMETHING NEW**

**Okay, so there will probably be smut in the next chapter, but it won't be very hardcore…yet. Plus, I've been a little preoccupied because my friend wanted me to write a Durarara fic because I've never done it before and if I didn't she'd cry and blah blah…**

**Anyway:**

**Question: If you could only choose one anime/manga to live with for the rest of your life, what would it be?**

**Something New: You guys remember this from last time, right? Where I give you an occupation from a couple and you tell me who goes where?**

**Model (seme/top): *insert seme/top of relationship here***

**Photographer/painter/sculptor/drawer (uke/bottom): *insert uke/bottom of relationship here***


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 8

Arthur arrived at the throne room of the gods and took his seat. The only other person who wasn't there was Antonio, but he also arrived a moment later.

Avitus cleared his throat. "Welcome, everyone. I'll make this brief so we can quickly attend to it. I've received word from The Guardian that there's a human who will attempt to bring two of our most recent sacrifices back to life. As you all know, allowing mortals to bring the dead back to their world is strictly prohibited and _cannot _go unpunished."

Arthur raised his hand to speak, deeply concerned now. "Excuse me, Your Majesty."

Avitus nodded, acknowledging him. "Yes, Arthur?"

"Do you know which sacrifices this human wants to bring back?" Arthur thought back to Alfred, who was probably still waiting on his bed for him, eagerly awaiting their opportunity to make love.

Avitus nodded gravely. "Yes, we do. The Guardian said he was planning to bring back Alfred and Kiku, your sacrifice and Yao's."

"Excuse me?!" Yao barked, jumping to his feet, looking the angriest any of them had ever seen the Wisdom God. "How dare he?!"

Arthur, while just as angry as Yao, figured that now would probably be a good time to keep his mouth shut. So instead of jumping up and screaming, he calmly and coldly asked Avitus, "So what will this mortal's punishment be?"

"Death," Ivan answered for the king, a creepy, twisted smile on his childlike face. "Sweet, bloody, dark death." The room seemed to grow far colder than usual with Ivan's words.

Avitus nodded in agreement. "Ivan's right. Such an act deserves the worst of punishments. That is why Ivan's sending his most vicious Reapers after this boy."

"If I may ask," Irunya said softly, raising her hand, "who is it that's attempting this, Your Majesty?"

"Matthew Williams," Avitus said, voice blank.

Arthur, however, now had a flurry of emotions in his petite body. _Alfred's brother?, _he thought fearfully, lightly biting his lip. _He's going to try to bring Alfred back? Oh dear… Alfred's already distraught over his father. If he finds out that Matthew's been sentenced to death by the gods… Oh no…_

"How soon can you have Adrianna after this boy?" Avitus asked Ivan, looking at the Death God.

Ivan merely chuckled, his violet eyes glowing lilac as a sudden swirl of dark smoke surrounded him and he disappeared. His voice, however, echoed around the room. "On your mark, Your Majesty. On your mark…"

Arthur shivered as ice ran through his blood, any form of arousal gone from him.

**Later…**

When Arthur returned to his room, he did his absolute best to keep from looking anxious or worried, as Alfred was still lounging on his soft bed. His blue eyes lit up and started to smolder at the sight of Arthur and he sat up.

"How was the meeting?" he asked, though he really couldn't have cared less. The only thing the young sacrifice wanted to know at the moment was how long it would take Arthur to get out of those damn clothes and back onto the bed.

"Oh," Arthur said as he looked away. "It was…productive. It seems that— Oh!" Arthur was pulled onto the bed by Alfred before he finished his sentence, and he was grateful that he didn't get the chance to.

"You can tell me later," Alfred whispered, kissing Arthur's long neck. "All that's important to me right now is us."

Arthur shivered and nodded, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck and kissing him. He was right; the only thing that should matter at the moment was the two of them. He ran his slender hands down Alfred's strong back, loving how soft his slightly tanned skin was, noting that it was almost as soft as his own immortality milk-white skin. He was also able to note—as Alfred pulled away from his lips to strip Arthur of his shirt—that the younger man had a few scars here and there on his skin, and he frowned slightly, leaning up once his shirt was totally off to kiss the marks that blemished his new lover's skin. "Where did these come from?" he whispered, rolling them over so he was straddling his sacrifice.

Alfred seemed confused for a moment and looked down at his body, realizing that the god was talking about his scars. He smiled. "Oh these?" He pointed to one on his waist. "I accidentally gave myself a cut there when I was little, because I was playing with a sword my father was trading off to some king. And this one here"—he pointed to one on his right bicep—"is from when I fell out of a tree while playing a game with Mattie." His face remained bright for a moment before sadness started to come onto his perfect features, as he was remembering that his father and brother were people he'd never see again.

Arthur suddenly regretted asking, and so he picked up Alfred's hands and brought them to his own slim chest. "Look at me, love," he said softly, face turning seductive as he ran Alfred's hands slowly and teasingly over his own body, letting out breathy little gasps as his eyes closed. He opened one, though slightly, to see if Alfred was indeed looking at him, and he smirked a little in triumph; Alfred's lustful look was back. At that moment, Alfred removed Arthur's hands from his own and took it upon himself to happily touch and tease the lovely god's body.

Alfred licked his lips and leaned up, gently sucking on one of Arthur's rosy buds before pulling back and rolling them over once more, tugging off his lover's pants. With the fabric gone, he was able to marvel at the sight he now believed should be his greeting whenever he was relieved from his Sailor duties for the day; Arthur, blushing and naked and spread out beautifully on his silky bed. If this were something he'd get to see every night, then he would gladly perform his job.

While Alfred eyed him like the god he was, Arthur reached under the pillow and pulled out a crystal vial filled with a pink, gel-like liquid. "Use this to prepare me," he said with a smile, placing it in Alfred's hands.

Alfred took the vial, but tilted his head. "No foreplay?" While he had no objection to just skipping right over all the teasing, he did find it a little odd. Then again, Arthur was a god, and he'd had centuries to make love, and centuries to do it with several different humans—and gods. Perhaps the concept of foreplay bored him now.

Arthur shook his head and hooked his legs around Alfred's waist, pushing his pants down and off. "Next time. We need to hurry, we never know when Feliciano might show up and interrupt us again."

At the idea of the little redhead ruining his chances with Arthur again, Alfred quickly nodded and hauled the Sea God up, so his legs were wrapped around Alfred's waist and his arms around Alfred's neck. Pressing their bodies together and kissing him, Alfred slicked up his fingers and shivered, immediately feeling more aroused just from having the gel-ish liquid touching his skin. "What is this?" he asked against Arthur's lips, the scent of passionate red roses filling his senses.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but smiled. "A gift from Francis. It's an aphrodisiacal gel that arouses anyone whose skin comes in contact with it."

Alfred purred and reached behind the god, gently rubbing one finger against his entrance. "I like that idea~" He slipped the finger into his lover, shushing him with a kiss when Arthur let out a little gasp. It was tight inside the god, making Alfred faintly wonder how long it'd been since he'd allowed someone to share his bed.

"Three hundred years," Arthur breathed, and Alfred blushed, realizing he'd wondered it out loud. "It's been three hundred years since I last had sex, god or human, man or woman."

The blue-eyed sacrifice was stunned as he wriggled the finger inside Arthur for a few minutes before carefully pushing in the second one. How could someone be immortal and go three hundred years without sex? He shrugged it off and thrust his fingers deep into the Sea God, curling them to touch the happy spot deep within his lover.

"Alfred," Arthur gasped, pressing closer to him and biting gently at his neck and shoulders. "You're so amazing and beautiful…"

Alfred chuckled and pushed in the last finger, feeling Arthur rock against his hand. "Please tell me you're ready…"

Arthur whimpered and nodded, waiting until Alfred had removed his fingers to pull them back down on the bed, Alfred on top of him. Impatient, he grabbed the crystal vial and reached between them, smearing the warm pink liquid all over Alfred's erection, moaning softly as more tingling arousal ran through him from not only touching Alfred, but the gel also. "Now hurry, git." He opened his legs wider and looked at the sacrifice readily.

Alfred chuckled slightly at his lover, but did as he said—not from his implanted obedience, but from his own desire for the god—and thrust deep into him, shivering and letting out a gasp from how good it felt to bury himself into Arthur. He gripped Arthur's hip with one hand and the headboard with the other, waiting for him to give him the signal to move.

Arthur, on the other hand, was taking deep, slow breaths, relaxing his muscles. Like he'd said, it'd been three hundred years since he'd had someone inside him; it was like going on a long vacation and coming home to something surprising. And Alfred's length was certainly a welcomed and nice surprise, though a slightly painful one. Finally, he gripped the blue-eyed man's shoulders tightly and nodded. "You can move now, love."

Alfred leaned down, kissing away whatever pain remained as he started to thrust, being gentle at first, but deep. He knew this was probably a little difficult for Arthur, considering how many years it'd been since he'd had anything inside him but probably his own fingers, so he wanted to make this experience pleasurable, not painful. It was hard, though, not to just thrust hard and deep into the god, but he was sure that would inspire Arthur's vicious wrath later on.

"Faster…" Arthur's voice was needy and breathless as he rocked against his lover happily, meeting his movements. "Please…faster…"

Alfred gladly thrust faster, moaning as he leaned down to kiss Arthur's neck and shoulder, biting it a little also. He was happy Arthur had allowed him to move faster, since he probably would've done it soon anyway. It just felt so good…

Arthur, having not had sex in so long, was already close to his release, and he reached down, wrapping one hand around his throbbing erection, stroking it in time with Alfred's wonderful thrusts. He mewled, walls clamping down on his lover's length inside him, making Alfred also feel close. "Alfred…Alfred…" Arthur was unsure at the moment if he remembered anything but his sacrifice's name, but it didn't matter, because he was screaming it and arching his back as he came, free hand digging so hard into Alfred's back, that there'd undoubtedly be marks.

Alfred came too, pulled into euphoria by Arthur's nails digging into his skin, Arthur calling his name, the feeling of Arthur around him, and just from the sight of _Arthur _himself. Panting, he pulled out and rolled them over, letting Arthur rest on his chest as Alfred gently stroked his back and hair.

"Did you enjoy sharing my bed?" Arthur asked tiredly and breathlessly, smiling lazily up at him.

Alfred rolled his eyes but smiled and nodded, kissing him. "Yeah…" He yawned and pulled the covers around him. "Mmm… Sweet dreams."

And just like that, the two of them fell asleep in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

**A/N: FUN QUESTION TIME/SOMETHING NEW/APOLOGY**

**Oh my God, I am so, _so _sorry it took me almost two months to update guys! I've been super busy with the new school year and possible friend drama and all that, so I didn't have time. Forgive me, please? *offers everyone cookies and cake***

**Fun Question 1: For those of you that watch or read or know of Game of Thrones enough, what houses would you sort the Hetalia characters into? (Based on England's appearance—blonde hair, green eyes—and his determination and stuff, I'd put him in House Lannister, but that's just me.)**

**Fun Question 2: For those of you that don't watch or read or know of Game of Thrones, if you could have any two Hetalia characters switch bodies, who would you pick?**

**Something New:**

**King (seme/top): *insert seme/top of pairing here***

**Queen/Consort (uke/bottom): *insert uke/bottom of pairing here***

**Anyway, bye! Love you guys! I'll try to update sooner! Bye!**


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